“Oh yeah? She’s my favorite, too. Just got it. Couldn’t take my eyes off her when I first saw her. So I bought her, thinking she’d be the first piece for the gallery. Called the artist and everything to set it up. But then I realized I was so drawn to that painting because she reminded me of you. So I want to keep it for myself.”
Chapter Eleven
Jagger
“Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle?” I offered Leah my spare helmet. From the frozen, open-mouthed expression on her face, I already knew the answer. “Tip your head forward.”
I slid the helmet down over her head. Her wide eyes were all that showed now, and I kissed the bridge of her nose before snapping down the visor. She laughed while I secured the strap.
“I feel like I just landed here from Mars.” She was completely hidden, between the helmet and my hooded sweatshirt I insisted she wear. Didn’t matter that it was seventy degrees, it got cold on the road, especially by the water.
“If they all look like you, I’ll book on one of those one-way trips there.” I straddled the bike before putting my own helmet on.
“No way.” Leah’s voice was muffled. “You’re mine.”
Those two words melted everything inside me. “Damn straight. Climb on the back and hold on to me. I took the sissy bar off the bike because I hadn’t been expecting any virgins.”
Leah did as I asked, gripping my waist tightly as she got her bearings. “What the hell is a sissy bar and why do you think I’d need one?”
I turned to her as much as I could. I wished I could see her face, instead all I could see was the reflection of my own grin. “It’s a backrest. It caught too much wind and it slowed me down, so I got rid of it. Don’t tense up.” Her shoulders went down on command. “Move with me, not against me. Ready?”
The helmet bobbed up and down. I squeezed her leg before putting on my own helmet. It had been a long time since I’d ridden with anyone else. I bought the Harley with the idea of taking people out, thinking clients might like it since they were chasing a thrill. But Barry flipped out, some bullshit about liability. We could do whatever we wanted, as long as we didn’t put his ass on the line. The bike was my getaway, and riding was the way I cleared my head and got my thoughts in order. I didn’t mind inviting Leah in. The motorcycle was as much a part of taking pictures as my camera. It brought me closer to the earth; the grit, the dirt, the wind. The stuff I’d miss if I’d protected myself.
When I revved the engine and backed out of the spot, Leah tensed. I expected it; she did it every time she touched me at first, and I always wondered what went through her mind. If it was fear or excitement. Or a little bit of both. She loosened her grip after a couple blocks, her body resting comfortably against mine as we weaved through the streets of the city.
Traffic wasn’t an issue on a bike. I took the long way, which had been my plan as long as she didn’t freak out and hate the bike. I could barely hear her through my helmet and the wind, but I was pretty sure she’d cry out in surprise as we moved between stopped cars. But they weren’t protests because they ended in laughter. I’d know that sound anywhere.
She took off her helmet as soon as we stopped. I hated wearing one, too. She shook out her hair, sexy as fuck. “That was awesome. Now I know what a bird must feel like.” Her gaze shifted to our broken down, overgrown surroundings. “Where are we?”
“You wanted to see the places I photograph. This is one of my favorites. Come on.” I held out my hand to help her climb off the bike.
Leah’s head was on a swivel. “I love that this is the first place you brought me.” She took another step closer to me, tipping her head up in an invite for a kiss. That wasn’t what she wanted—she put her finger between us. “I can still feel the vibration of the engine.” She didn’t have to add where. I knew.
Now it was my turn to check out the surroundings. This place was abandoned, but it didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone around. Especially now that the amphitheater’s future hung in the balance. I’d become accustomed to looking over my shoulder around Leah. On her turf, someone was always there, even if it was just the ghost of assholes past. To be able to truly have my way with her, like I did the weekend of the reunion, got my motor running, too.
We walked to the concrete barrier hand in hand. “I’ll lift you up. Wait for me at the top and I’ll help you down the other side.”
Her jaw dropped. “We’re trespassing.”
“How do you think your viewers got all those awesome images inside the properties they want you to rehab?” I took advantage of her surprise and lifted her by the waist. She did the rest of the work and straddled the wall. It would piss me off if anyone else claimed to be so interested in urban exploration but knew so little about it, but Leah had been upfront. She’d only admired from afar. It was time for her to get an up-close look since she was about to get her hands dirty with the show.
I hoisted myself up, glad I’d taken a couple days off from the gym. I never would’ve made it if my arms were still sore. I stopped only to kiss Leah, but somebody had already gotten comfortable with danger. She urged me closer as she deepened the kiss.
Leah’s gaze fell to the patch of concrete between our legs when we finished. “The whole thing is so huge, there are so many facets of the show that I’m totally clueless about. I have to trust the other producers and the lawyers to get that part right. I always joke that I’m just there to make things pretty.”
“You give everything you touch a second chance. Don’t sell yourself short. You, of all people, know how important that is.” I tipped her chin up so she met my gaze, but I didn’t kiss her. Instead, I swung my legs around and jumped down.
“That’s what we should call the show. Second Chances. It doesn’t have a name yet.” Leah laughed, carefully following my lead. “How’d you do that without dropping your camera bag?” The barrier was wider at the bottom than the top, and she inched down until she reached me.
“Years of practice.”
“What is this place? An old stadium?” she asked as we approached the spot where someone would’ve taken our tickets, making sure we were where we belonged. Good thing that guy had the last twenty or so years off.
“It was a marine amphitheater. People could watch speedboats, other water sports, and eventually they had concerts here, too.” I loved the look on Leah’s face as she took it all in. If I’d doubted her sincerity about the project on the way in, her expression proved she had it in spades. “Hurricane Andrew handed this area its ass in the nineties, and that was the end of this place.”
Spray paint covered almost every surface. Some of it crude and intentionally destructive, other patches were declarations or desperate messages, and there was even more of it that was beautiful, whether it was supposed to be or not. I found the things that no one was meant to appreciate the most fascinating.
“This is amazing. It’s haunting, sad, and intriguing.” She stopped to admire a mural, the abstract side of a woman’s face painted in yellows, blues, and greens. The artist had found a way to make the eye catch your gaze and hold it. Leah’s fingers tightened around mine, to make sure I shared the moment. “The best art is the stuff no one intended to have an audience. It’s done for personal satisfaction. It’s so honest. I think that’s why I like interior design so much. You don’t get much more personal than someone’s home, but in a way, this goes much deeper than that.”
Whether she knew anything about the medium or not, Leah got it, on that visceral level that couldn’t be taught. It was the same place where we’d become hopelessly intertwined, growing from the same root, dependent on each other to survive.
We walked through the concourse, the dark shadows adding another layer of depth to the messages underneath. The sun slapped us in the face when we reached the seats. I let Leah take the lead, wandering through the rows, stopping whenever something interested her.
“Sit in one of them. Let me take your picture.” I pulled one of the seats down wi
th my foot.
Leah’s mouth opened to protest, but then her lips slid into a seductive smile. “Not like last time.”
We’d done a boudoir, striptease photoshoot the weekend of the reunion. Leah moved in front of the camera like it had been invented just to capture her. My cock was as hard as the concrete we stood on thinking about it. I looked at those photos every day, never wanting to let the night she claimed me slip away.
I shook my head. “It would be cool if you had some headshots in a place like this for the new show.”
She shook her hair out and rubbed her lips together. “I’m a mess.”
I rolled my eyes, and she grinned. I didn’t have to do anything else to let her know I was calling her out on her bullshit. She could roll in mud and still be gorgeous. “You shouldn’t be perfect in this setting. It would be too much of a juxtaposition. Let your hair be wild and your lipstick smeared. The art should be the perfect thing. It’s a much more interesting picture. Use them on your blog. Let your viewers see the real you.” I stopped myself before adding the one I fell hopelessly in love with. We hadn’t had that conversation yet. I was pretty sure she knew, but it could ruin everything. “Not the one that spends two hours in hair and makeup.”
She’d texted me many times in the thick of things, her hair in big barrel curls and wearing far too much makeup. The end result was always breathtaking, but it wasn’t Leah. It was a character she played.
Leah sank into the seat, twisting her hands in her lap. “Or you could keep them for yourself.”
I climbed down a row and took the camera out of my bag. I looked through the lens, checking the angle by snapping a shot. I was used to working with the sun instead of against it. It didn’t bother me if parts of the photo were blown out; I shot nature, and I was all about keeping it real. One more row back was perfect. “How about we take the pictures first and then decide how to use them? Okay, you know how to do this.”
She positioned herself in that awkward way that looked so good on camera. All movements had to be exaggerated to make features stand out and accentuate curves. The first few shots were always stiff for everyone.
“Do you want me to just look at you?” she asked tentatively.
That had been my only request last time. Everything inside me throbbed, the camera intensified the ever-present electricity between us. “Not this time. Look around. I want to play with the angles.”
I had no idea why she was nervous. Leah was a natural in front of the camera. She didn’t need hours of primping to make it happen, either. It was the way she moved, her face lit up and her eyes sparkled. I believed every move she made. It was the secret to her success. I crouched down, experimenting with the shots as she moved. Once she loosened up, she wasn’t afraid to try new things. She stood, so I shot up the line of her body, and then she crouched down, resting her forearms on the row of chairs between us and looked down the barrel of my lens.
She practically crawled inside me when she did that. I couldn’t concentrate. “Let’s find another place to shoot.”
“After you.” Leah stretched her arms. Photoshoots were much harder than anyone gave most models credit for. Physically demanding and intense because they needed to concentrate on all the stuff that usually happened on autopilot.
I already knew where I wanted to go. This had been my plan all along. Leah had become my muse, and I wanted to photograph her everywhere. It was a whole new medium I’d never dabbled in. All my life I’d practiced the craft of sexuality, but I’d always considered it separate from my art. When I blended the two, magic happened. I led her to a mural that someone had painted on the side of one of the seating sections. This was one was planned, and it looked like a political poster found in a country a dictator held in its firm grip. “Stand right here.” I motioned to the edge of the image.
Leah pushed up her sleeves and stood against the wall, waiting for me, just like yesterday. Knee bent, arms back against the concrete. I took a couple shots and nodded, giving this photoshoot my total concentration. She tried a couple different poses, settling with her arm bent over her head, and looked to the side.
Fuck, that was amazing.
“Hold that,” I commanded. I needed to get it from every angle to make sure I did her justice. She held the pose, but her eyes shifted back to me, her mouth parted slightly, and I had no idea it could get any better. I kept shooting, my trance only was broken by her laughter.
“You’re way too close.” She nudged the camera, and then took my face in her hands and nipped my lips.
“I thought you liked that.” The kisses deepened, and I knew damn well she liked it. The camera dangled from my wrist. I nudged my leg between hers, and my cock throbbed. “You liked it last night.”
She stole a couple quick glances to either side. “This place is abandoned.”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t mean no one’s around.”
“We had to climb over a concrete wall to get in here. Anyone who bothers to do that deserves to catch us in action.” Her hand slipped below my waist, close to my cock. If she touched it, all bets were off.
I learned something new about Leah that day. She craved danger. I was dying to find out how far she’d go, if I could get her to cross the line and see what life was like on the other side. But not here.
“Don’t think I’m not tempted. The reason I’m not taking you up on your offer is because there’s a group that’s been working on this place. They want to host a yacht show or some bullshit here in a couple weeks. If they’re going to do that, they’ll restore it.”
She cocked her head in confusion. “You don’t want them to fix it up?”
“Hell no. This is the good stuff. They’ll take everything unique away and make it totally sterile. There will be no reason to remember it. It will be another place rich people get together and talk about their money. They don’t give a fuck where they are. I’ve been to enough of those things to know that I don’t want them here.”
Leah sighed. “I wish you’d come work with us. You have no idea what having someone with your vision would add to the project. It would totally set us apart from every other design show. You could tell us when to restore, but more importantly, when to leave something alone. And why. I don’t think the idea is genius because I’m in love with you—“
She stopped, her eyes wide. She bit her lip and the corners of her mouth turned upward, not taking it back. “—I didn’t expect it to come out like that.”
I snaked my hand into her hair and crashed against her in a kiss. The answer should’ve been I love you too, but that was fucking boring. Leah clutched my shoulders, and we were seconds away from going too far. We both gasped when we separated.
“And I’m in love with you because it did come out like that.” At the intersection of both of our passions.
We headed back to the bike. “Will you please consider my offer? It’s usually the other way around, people coming to me for a job, you know. I don’t have to ask twice.”
She rubbed her ass after I slapped it, glaring at me playfully. I knew all along she’d break me down. “Maybe.”
There was only so long I could say no to her.
Chapter Twelve
Leah
There wasn’t enough time. I blinked and I only had one day left with Jagger. In twenty-four hours, I’d be at the airport, waiting to get on my plane. To go home without him.
I loved Miami. I didn’t think it would make any difference whether I came to Jagger or he came to me, but it really did. All the things I had to worry about at home didn’t exist here. And it was magical. It was the first time I’d been able to truly relax and enjoy spending time with him. If I wasn’t careful, I could get lost in this sex-soaked playground and forget everything else.
We’d spent the rest of the afternoon on the bike, and I loved that he didn’t bring me to a bunch of tourist sites. Instead, he showed me all his favorite Miami Modern style buildings because he knew how much I loved that type of architecture. The
curved and triangular shapes, the clean white buildings accented with turquoise and coral. Paradise. Jagger had lived in Miami for almost fifteen years, and he’d made it his home.
I couldn’t take him away from it.
“This used to be the biggest dive bar in the history of dive bars.” He laughed. “It’s a bed and breakfast now, but they used to have dollar drafts, which is like holy water to a poor college student. Even after I started working, I came here for years. It was a place to have a drink, watch the game, and not give a shit about anything. One night, my buddy Zach decided he was a pool shark. He’s so not. I had to save him from getting his ass kicked by a bunch of angry bikers who could actually play pool.”
And then this. Little by little, Jagger was opening up, letting me see how he really lived. I knew escorting had been such a huge part of his life—it had to be since he traveled and spent as much time with his clients as they requested—but this was what I wanted, the man who drank cheap beer and enjoyed the game. “Did you ever go back?”
The grin hadn’t faded, and he looked back at the building, shaking his head. “No, I had to save Zach’s ass on a regular basis. We never found another bar like this. Too bad it’s gone. It was one of a kind.”
“Can I meet Zach?”
Jagger’s face fell. “He’s an escort, Leah.”
“So what?” I’d picked Jagger out of a sea of shirtless bodies on his agency’s website. I wondered if I’d even considered Zach. And how different things would be if I’d picked him over Jagger. “He’s your friend and I want to meet him.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call.” Jagger let out a sigh.
I grabbed his arm before we got back on the bike. “You don’t want me to meet him.”
“It’s not that. Zach’s an asshole.” Jagger tried to laugh, but he wasn’t fooling me. He raked his hand through his hair. “I have no idea what he’s going to say to you. He’s pissed I quit escorting.”
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